


Those Perfect Imperfections

by Chisotahn



Series: stop, erase, rewind [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10101968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chisotahn/pseuds/Chisotahn
Summary: “So you rewind a lot off the ice, too.” It wasn’t a question.Victor let out a long breath. “I do. Did. Um.”The silence stretched between them for longer than was comfortable. Finally, Yuuri broke it. “Why?”Victor laughed, a breath of sound devoid of joy. “Wouldn’t you, if you could fix your mistakes?”(Sequel toThose Second Thoughts You Asked Forbyakisazame.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written by chisotahn with permission from and beta by akisazame! Be sure to read _Those Second Thoughts You Asked For_ first if you haven't already; this story won't make sense without it. Enjoy!

Yuuri was far too good at thinking far too much.

The only reason he hadn’t gotten to it sooner was because there simply hadn’t been time. There was the medal ceremony, and the banquet, and Victor had gotten drunk again and drunk Victor seemed to have twice as many arms as normal Victor, requiring an enormous amount of effort to contain.

And, well, one shattering revelation at a time was plenty. Yuuri allowed himself to focus on the kiss and everything it implied; at least he could look up advice for that online, or talk to Phichit about it if he needed to. Victor himself, freed from inhibitions and cheerfully clingy, was also an excellent distraction. 

It wasn’t until they’d returned to Hasetsu that Yuuri’s thoughts finally wandered back to Victor’s ability, and once they started heading in that direction, they refused to stop. Yuuri rolled over in bed and buried his face into his pillow, willing his brain to stop running away with things and just be quiet and _sleep_.

As usual, it didn’t work.

He couldn’t stop tracing the implications. How many ten-second slices had Victor erased over the years? Did he only use it for skating? If he didn’t… well, that particular train of thought went nowhere good, which only made it harder to avoid.

And what did it mean, that Yuuri’s idol had made his mark on figure skating history using an ability nobody else could ever possibly beat? There wasn’t a rule about not rewinding time, because why would there be, but… 

Dawn found Yuuri still awake, squinting at old videos of Victor’s performances, trying to figure out exactly when Victor had used his power, and how many times. It provided a little bit of solace, because ten seconds was really not that long, especially on the ice; Yuuri couldn’t imagine the speed of thought and reflexes that would be needed to rewind, continue the previous movement and achieve a different result. Victor’s skating talent was definitely real, possibly more impressive rather than less, given the circumstances. 

And yet.

The knock on Yuuri’s door made him wince. “Yuuri! Wake up!” came Victor’s cheery voice from the hallway, about ten times too awake for Yuuri’s taste. Yuuri put down his phone and sat up slowly, perception fogged by lack of sleep. 

“Yuuri?” 

Victor beamed at him when he opened the door, but the smile was quickly replaced by a look of concern. “You look awful,” Victor began. 

Then Victor yelped in surprise as Yuuri flung himself forward, knocking them both to the floor; Yuuri stared at Victor as they fell, pouring every bit of focus he had left into watching Victor’s expression, searching for some kind of a tell, because he was sure the rewinding had to be near-instinctual, and a fall would definitely-

_Ah._

They hit the tatami with a thud, and Yuuri immediately rolled off to one side, giving Victor an abashed look. “I’m sorry, Victor,” he said, getting up on his knees and holding out one hand to his coach. 

“It’s fine,” Victor said, raising one eyebrow at Yuuri before accepting the offered hand. “What was that about?” 

“I, um.” Yuuri looked away, squeezing Victor’s hand awkwardly in his. “Can we… can we talk, actually? Not here. My room? Your room? No, let’s use my room. It has a better door.” Yuuri stumbled to his feet, and Victor followed him, still looking perplexed. 

Once the door to Yuuri’s room was safely closed behind them, Yuuri let out a sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed, finally looking up to meet Victor’s gaze. “Sorry,” he repeated, feeling foolish.

“May I?” Victor asked, gesturing at the mattress next to Yuuri, and Yuuri nodded. Victor sat down next to him, and Yuuri chewed at the inside of his lower lip for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

“...I think when you rewind, or try to, you wrinkle your forehead just a little, in a particular way,” he said finally, reaching out to brush one finger at the skin between Victor’s eyebrows. 

Victor’s flinched away from the touch, looking uncomfortable. “I see.” 

“I watched videos of your performances most of the night,” Yuuri admitted, giving Victor a sidelong look. “I thought falling might be the best way… I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No. You didn’t,” Victor said with a sigh. “I’m not sure how to respond to this, honestly.”

“It was stupid of me,” Yuuri mumbled. “I just thought I saw something in the videos, a tell for when you rewound, and I wanted to test it…” He closed his eyes and rubbed at them with both hands, as if he could wipe the exhaustion away. 

“I guess it was inevitable that you’d want to talk about it more,” Victor replied, voice low. “I’m just not very good at this kind of conversation. Like I said, you’re the first one I’ve let remember.” 

“It’s not like I’ve done it either,” Yuuri said, looking down at his feet. “How many people have you told?”

“That’s difficult to say,” Victor said, after a moment. “It blurs together after a while.” 

“So you rewind a lot off the ice, too.” It wasn’t a question.

Victor let out a long breath. “I do. Did. Um.” 

The silence stretched between them for longer than was comfortable. Finally, Yuuri broke it. “Why?”

Victor laughed, a breath of sound devoid of joy. “Wouldn’t you, if you could fix your mistakes?”

Yuuri closed his eyes, trying to imagine it. He’d absolutely said and done things that he’d regretted immediately. If the power had been there… “It would be tempting,” he said, slowly. 

Victor shook his head. “Very. I was… scared when I realized your presence stopped it from working. At first. You have no idea how much time I’ve lived through that nobody else has.” His voice turned something worse than wistful. Something hollow.

Yuuri shifted immediately, leaning against Victor’s side. “It sounds lonely,” he said, after a moment. 

“Yes.” The word was barely audible, but Victor leaned back against him.

 _It doesn’t have to be. Not any more,_ was what Yuuri wanted to say, but the air between them felt too fragile for that, the balance of the moment too perilous. He could feel Victor’s warmth through his pyjamas. “I want to see you skate without that,” he said, instead.

Victor’s quiet chuckle this time was less self-deprecating. “I tried before I came here, you know. I haven’t bruised myself like that in years.” 

“Did you like it?”

A pause. “I did.” 

“Good.” Yuuri sighed, his head drooping against Victor’s shoulder. A moment later, Victor shifted to drape one arm around Yuuri, the movement slow and careful. “Mm,” Yuuri mumbled, letting himself settle into the touch. 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Victor said.

“Not really.” Yuuri stifled a yawn. “But I’m used to it.”

Victor shook his head. “At least there’s no reason why you have to get up at a particular time today. You can go back to bed.”

“Practice, though,” Yuuri muttered, though his heart wasn’t in it.

“I think you’ve earned a little break.” Victor tugged at Yuuri’s shoulders, and Yuuri let himself flop backwards onto the bed. “You may have managed the Cup of China on no sleep, but that is not going to become a habit.”

“Are you going to lay on top of me again?” Yuuri mumbled, and Victor paused.

“...Only if you want me to,” he said, after a moment.

“Mm. Later, maybe.” Now that he’d talked to Victor, the whirling thoughts in Yuuri’s head were quieting at last, letting the exhaustion surge forward. “Come and sit with me? Not now. Do… bathroom stuff first. Food stuff. Then come back?”

Victor laughed, low. “I can do that.” He tugged the bedsheets free, then fluffed them over Yuuri. “And you rest.” 

“Yes.” Yuuri yawned, hugely. 

“Go to sleep.” Victor leaned down, and Yuuri felt the featherlight brush of a kiss against his forehead. “I’ll be back later.”

Yuuri smiled up at him, then let his eyes drift closed at last, sleep crashing over him like a wave. 

…………………………

The idea didn’t occur to Yuuri until days later, and it was another week after that before he got the courage to actually ask about it. Even then, he second-guessed himself at the last minute, and if it hadn’t been for Victor’s persistence… 

“What?” Victor insisted, looking up at Yuuri midway through unlacing his skates after practice. “Come on, you can’t tell me you have something important to ask me and then back off. You wouldn’t even have gotten that far if it wasn’t important, right?”

Victor was too perceptive sometimes. Yuuri looked down at his feet, his socks rumpled after taking off his own skates. “I, um. It’s stupid, Victor. Really. Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” Victor said, stubborn; he reached out and brought one hand up under Yuuri’s chin, tilting it up, forcing Yuuri to meet his gaze. “Tell me,” he insisted, his expression earnest and open.

Yuuri sighed. “I… I was wondering if you wanted to. Skate together. With me.”

Victor blinked. “Don’t we already do that when I coach you?”

“No, not like that… I mean for… for the exhibition gala. I’m already skating your program. We could do it together,” Yuuri said, the words coming out in a rush, as if some internal dam had shattered. “I know when I’m around you can’t rewind, but that’s also kind of… part of the point, I guess? I want to see you skate, _you_ , the person you are when you’re with me.” 

“Why?” Victor was more guarded now, but he also hadn’t shut Yuuri down, which Yuuri supposed was a good sign.

“It’s, um… it’s complicated. I guess I want to prove to myself that you’re… still who I always thought you were,” Yuuri began, and Victor’s face fell so sharply that Yuuri wondered if he could get far enough away in ten seconds for Victor to erase that moment. But that was how you got to a empty life, half-lived in ten-second bursts that nobody else could share.

“That’s not what I meant,” Yuuri said quickly, turning to grab Victor’s hands, his grip a little too tight for comfort. “There’s this part of me, it’s stupid, that almost thinks your rewinding was more like… like cheating, I guess, and… I _know_ it’s not, I can’t imagine how much control you have to have to do what you do, and-” Victor was staring at him now, expressionless. “A-and I just… I want to skate with you. With Victor Nikiforov.”

“Victor Nikiforov is an inconsistent mess,” Victor said, his voice low, tone unreadable. “Victor Nikiforov hasn’t ever skated in senior-level competition without rewinding.” 

“An exhibition isn’t a competition,” Yuuri pointed out, his heart thudding uncomfortably hard in his chest. Was he screwing this all up? God, he had to be. If he’d had Victor’s ability, he’d already have rewound this conversation without a second thought. _Cheating,_ a treacherous part of him hissed.

“I have a reputation,” Victor said, slowly.

And the look in his eyes crystallized something inside Yuuri, a sudden flash of light revealing something very important. Yuuri took a deep breath. “You have a _cage_.”

Victor went very still. 

“...Victor?”

And then Victor’s arms were wrapped around him, holding him close, and Yuuri could feel Victor trembling. “I’m scared,” Victor admitted, burying his head against Yuuri’s shoulder. “I don’t know if I can _be_ Victor Nikiforov on the ice without rewinding.”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Yuuri began, but Victor squeezed him more tightly. 

“I’m not going to be the judge of that. Not any more,” Victor said. “I’m too used to pushing back things that make me uncomfortable. Literally. I’m not going to do that to you.”

“...technically, you can’t.” 

“You know what I mean.” Victor sighed, giving Yuuri a small, lopsided smile. “I still don’t know if I can skate like that without using my power, Yuuri. But I’m willing to try.”

“Are you sure?” Yuuri brought his arms up to circle Victor’s waist. 

Victor let out a long breath. “If I really don’t think I can do it, we can stop, right?” 

“Of course,” Yuuri assured him. “Nobody has to know we even made the attempt. We can practice when the triplets are in bed.” 

Victor snorted. “Ah, yes. There aren’t any secrets with them around.” He smiled again, more easily this time. “Thank you, Yuuri. I admit, I feel ridiculous, reacting so strongly to a simple suggestion…” 

Yuuri shook his head. “It’s not ridiculous. I understand. Better than most, maybe,” he added, wryly.

Victor kissed the tip of his nose. “Thank you for that, too. I mean it.”

“Any time,” Yuuri said, and they grinned at each other in unison.

…………………………

The first part of the challenge was the most important: if Victor couldn’t get through a run of _Stay Close to Me_ without the rewind, that would be the end of that. They crept back to Ice Castle late the next night, slipping in and locking the doors behind them. Victor was visibly twitchy, which was odd; Yuuri was used to being the nervous one between the two of them, and the reversal was a little startling. It was also strangely empowering. Even when Yuuri found it difficult to be strong for his own sake, seeing Victor like that made Yuuri want to protect him. 

“So. How do we do this?” Victor said, stepping out onto the ice after they’d warmed up, the rink hushed around them as if in anticipation.

“Try it on your own, first? Maybe downgrade the jumps to lower the sense of risk?” Yuuri pondered. “Can you avoid rewinding without me being close by?”

Victor looked pensive. “In this context, it’s nearly automatic. Watch me for now, and if I slip up, you can come out and join me.” 

Yuuri nodded. “Okay. Good luck,” he said, giving Victor what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Victor skated out to center ice, pausing a moment to steady himself before flowing into the program. As Victor began to move, Yuuri hummed the notes of the song under his breath, keeping his eyes locked on Victor. The choreographic sequence was easy enough-

 _Ah._ A stutter in Victor’s motion, ever so slight. “I saw that,” Yuuri called out. 

Victor winced, abandoning the routine and coming to a stop. “Sorry. I told you it was automatic.”

“What happened?” Yuuri had no idea what had elapsed in the ten seconds Victor had just cut out of existence, but he knew the choreography, and there weren’t any jumps there or other obvious opportunities for errors.

“Just a little sloppy.” Victor sighed. “I’m a perfectionist. It’s not like it costs anything to try again.”

“Surely it costs you something.” Yuuri pondered. “Isn’t it exhausting? If you add up all those rewound seconds… how much longer are your skates than anyone else’s?” 

“Physically, it’s fine. Mentally…” Victor frowned. “There have been times when I just couldn’t land something quite right and rewound over and over and over until I lost count, and finally went with something not perfect, but not as bad as some outcomes. I was just too tired to keep trying.” 

“That sounds horrible.” Yuuri shuddered. Avoiding failure was one thing, but being caught in a loop of failure was the worst thing he could imagine. “Okay. I’m coming out there.”

“I’m kind of impressed that you caught it, honestly,” Victor said as Yuuri took off his skate guards and took to the ice. 

Yuuri skated out to join Victor. “Now that I know what to look for, it’s really obvious. I wonder if you’ve ever lost PCS points for it?” 

Victor made a face. “I highly doubt that. Nobody but you knows what to look for. How would you even explain that?”

Yuuri shrugged. “No idea. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Is this close enough?” Victor had explained the ‘Yuuri Field’ to him, but Yuuri wasn’t attuned to the distance between them in the same way that Victor seemed to be. 

“Yes. Stay that close to me the whole time. I trust you to not get in the way.” Victor rolled his shoulders back, taking a deep breath before returning to center ice, Yuuri following. “Well. This will be interesting. Here we go.” 

The little flinches in Victor’s movements marking failed rewinds were even more obvious to Yuuri than the actual rewinds had been. It wasn’t anything big, just a tensing off-rhythm to the unheard music, the faintest shift in expression. Half the time Yuuri couldn’t even tell what had prompted the attempt. The other times… 

Victor spat something in Russian as he over-rotated the triple flip, nearly losing his balance. Yuuri stopped moving, letting Victor glide far enough away that he wasn’t in the Yuuri Field any more. There was a stutter a moment later, and Victor looked back at him, his expression pained. “You’re too far away.”

“You look so frustrated,” Yuuri sighed, guilt weighing on him. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“I want to do this,” Victor said, stubbornly. “I want to know the answer to your question as badly as you do. And having you close is the best way to keep me…” His words trailed off. “‘Honest’ isn’t the right word, but it’s the only one I can think of.” 

It hurt to see Victor like this, in so many different ways. Yuuri’s emotions warred within him. _He looks so sad,_ he thought, even as the self-deprecating part of him scoffed. _He can’t even do this much. Why did you idolize him, again?_

This had been a bad idea. “I’m putting you through this for no real reason. I can go,” Yuuri began.

And he saw the beginning of Victor’s instinctive reach for the rewind - saw it start, and then stop, nullified not by Yuuri’s presence but by Victor’s own choice. “I’m not doing that any more,” Victor said. “You have a right to say that, and think that, even though I don’t like it.” 

Yuuri swallowed, hard, part of him chilled by the implications. “I do,” he said, quiet but firm. 

“I know who I am when I rely too much on my power, Yuuri,” Victor said, deliberately skating into the Yuuri Field. “And I know I wasn’t happy. I’ve made years of mistakes and removed the consequences. I’m done.” Victor’s gaze was intense, a spark of blue fire. “It terrifies me, but I’m done.”

“Victor…” Yuuri skated forward and came to rest in front of Victor. “Forget about doing it at an exhibition. Let’s just do this for us. Nobody else ever has to see.” 

“I admit, it’s harder than I’d thought, even letting you see it,” Victor replied, an edge of something ragged creeping into his voice. “I hadn’t realized how hard it would be. But you’re the only one that can help me do this.”

Yuuri reached for Victor, and his coach slid into the embrace with a quiet sigh. “I’m not going anywhere,” Yuuri promised, and Victor smiled against his shoulder. 

They stood there for a few minutes, silent, until Victor straightened again, lifting one hand to brush back Yuuri’s bangs. “Let’s try again. Not every night - I refuse to let this interfere with your practice. But every few days, maybe.” 

“Okay.” Yuuri smiled at him. “I’ll just follow you around for now.”

“And once I’ve mastered that…” Victor gave Yuuri a speculative look. “We can weave in the pair skating elements, because you trailing me around on the ice like a duckling doesn’t make for compelling viewing.”

Yuuri stifled a laugh. “Viewing? I thought nobody was going to see this.”

“Even if nobody else ever sees it, I still want to skate well,” Victor said, simply. “And I want to leave the option open, just in case.” His expression was so vulnerable, yet so determined, that it made something in Yuuri’s heart melt. 

“Okay,” Yuuri repeated, softly, and kissed him. 

…………………………

Errors were inevitable in learning a new routine; Victor had reminded Yuuri of that constantly when they’d started on his free skate choreography, though that seemed odd in retrospect. “Being able to rewind past mistakes doesn’t mean I never made them. The opposite, actually - if I try, you know it means that I think I could do better,” Victor had said, when Yuuri asked.  
Still, neither of them had much experience with elements that were specific to pairs skating. Some things came naturally, little touches, moving in sync, seeking and finding each other on the ice. Other things were more difficult - and more fraught with potential consequences.

Yuuri felt the shift in balance before Victor did; a moment later, Victor’s grip faltered, and Yuuri let out a startled yelp as he slipped downward. _“Yuuri!”_ Victor gasped as Yuuri hit the ice awkwardly, his skates skidding out from under him and dumping him to the ground.

“I’m fine,” Yuuri managed, shifting so he was sitting on the ice, quickly assessing. It stung, sure, but he was positive there wasn’t any lasting damage. “I’m just fine, Victor.”

Victor’s eyes were wide, almost wild, and Yuuri knew without a shadow of a doubt that Victor had tried to rewind. Tried and failed, of course. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Yuuri assured him, offering Victor what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 

But Victor was wound up, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with the adrenaline. “ _God,_ Yuuri, I’m so sorry,” he said, reaching down to help Yuuri up, his grip on Yuuri’s hands painfully tight. “I tried to stop it, but…”

“You tried with your power, not your body. I understand, don’t worry,” Yuuri said, but Victor shook his head.

“That’s the problem! My reflex is something that doesn’t work. What if I drop you again? What if I hurt you? What if-” and the tumult of Victor’s words was much, much too familiar, and Yuuri couldn’t bear to see it in Victor, too. Yuuri leaned forward and kissed Victor on the lips, startling him into silence, the last word dying in his throat. 

“We take that risk every time we step onto the ice - or I do, anyway,” Yuuri said quietly, pulling back just enough to speak into the space between them. “I came to terms with that possibility a long time ago, but I still put my skates on every day. The reward is worth the risk.”

Victor gave him a pleading look, but Yuuri held his ground, and Victor’s gaze softened. At last, Victor let out a long breath, some of the tension leaving him. “Honestly, I think you’re lucky,” Victor muttered. “I missed a lot of the lessons most people learn from failure. I feel completely unprepared sometimes. I don’t like that.”

“I’ll help you learn this particular lesson,” Yuuri said firmly, skating back a bit. “Let’s practice that lift again.”

“I…” Victor hesitated.

“I trust you. Just remember to correct with your body, not with your mind,” Yuuri said, grinning at Victor.

Victor smiled, finally, and held out one hand to Yuuri. “I’ll do my best. Let’s take it from the top.”

They skated back to center ice, hand in hand.

…………………………

After their separation at the Rostelecom Cup, something changed. Victor had always enjoyed being physically close to Yuuri, but now he felt like Yuuri’s shadow, a welcome constant whose presence sustained them both. Yuuri, for his part, was only too happy to reciprocate. He’d missed Victor so, so much. 

They moved together more easily; Victor’s tell-tale flinches started to happen less and less. And they turned to their duet program more and more as a way of defusing the building tension from the inexorable approach of the Grand Prix Final… defusing tension, and expressing some of the wordless closeness between them. 

The night everything came together, Yuuri almost didn’t realize what had happened until the final element. As the last notes faded around them, Yuuri stared up at Victor, a shiver of joy running through him even as he panted for breath. Victor was looking down at him with amazement in his eyes.

“We did it.” Victor sounded awed. 

“We did,” Yuuri confirmed, unwilling to get his feet back under him just yet. The final pose of their pair skate was an embrace, with Victor dipping Yuuri just a bit, and Yuuri felt like he might shake apart with sheer happiness if Victor let go of him. “ _You_ did.”

“It wasn’t perfect.”

“It wasn’t. I don’t care.” Yuuri kissed him, unable to sustain it for too long because of the need to breathe; instead, he went for quantity, planting little kisses everywhere he could reach.

Victor laughed and squeezed him tightly. “And I just have to live with imperfection.”

“Yes. You do. Welcome to the world,” Yuuri said, between kisses. “I like it here, though.”

“So do I,” Victor replied, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe his own words. He straightened at last, setting Yuuri’s feet back on the ice properly. “It’s… god, it’s exhilarating.” 

“It is.” Yuuri smiled. “That’s why I love it so much.”

Victor’s eyes were locked on his, and Victor slowly raised one hand, brushing the back of it against Yuuri’s cheek, feather-soft. “I knew that at one point, but I let myself forget. I rewound it all away,” he said quietly. “Until you reminded me.” 

“I’m glad.” Yuuri leaned into the touch, just a little. “Do you want to do it again?”

“Do I! Over, and over, and over,” Victor laughed, letting his hand rest on Yuuri’s shoulder. “I don’t know if I can ever train myself out of rewinding without you stopping me, but that won’t be a problem with this program.”

“You don’t _have_ to stop, you know. It might be helpful sometimes,” Yuuri reminded him, taking Victor’s other hand in his and skating back a little, guiding Victor along with him. “Just use it sparingly. And not on people.”

Victor sighed. “It makes it so much easier,” he said, wistful. 

“And not using it makes everything more real.” Yuuri lifted their joined hands, brushing a kiss over Victor’s fingers. 

Victor made a soft, helpless noise that sent another shiver through Yuuri. “It does,” Victor said, smiling, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder. 

They skated the program almost every night after that - sometimes finishing it cleanly, sometimes not. But that mattered less and less. 

What mattered is that it was _real_.

“This is how I want us to be forever,” Victor murmured against Yuuri’s lips one night, the two of them flopped on the ice after a flubbed lift, and Yuuri couldn’t do anything but laugh and agree, counteracting the chill of the rink with the heat of Victor’s kisses. “No matter what. Just this. Real.”

“Always,” Yuuri whispered, meaning it more than he’d ever meant anything in his life.

…………………………

In quiet moments, Victor talked a lot about consequences. About facing them, and about avoiding them, and about what that avoidance did to a person over time. Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure he understood, but he stroked Victor’s back just the same, taking everything in, a repository for the things Victor had no other outlet for. 

He was Victor’s support. Victor’s anchor, sometimes in a very literal sense, tethering him to the present moment with no opportunity to try again. _You’re stronger than I am,_ Victor told him, _because you’ve faced your fears and kept going. I haven’t done that, not the way you have._

It was strange, and a little scary, to be strong. And that, too, created its own expectation. _Strong_ meant something specific in Yuuri’s mind. Steadfast. Caring. Not needing to lean on anyone else. Making decisions without fear - and sticking with the decisions you’d already made.

Still, Yuuri hadn’t been entirely certain about his decision to retire until the day he was late to practice, delayed by a minor plumbing emergency that had required extra hands to deal with. Afterwards, he’d run all the way to Ice Castle, expecting a cheerful scolding.

Instead, he found Victor on the ice, stitching together elements and jumps into something that could become a full routine, given time and polish. Victor’s focus was such that he didn’t notice when Yuuri came in, and Yuuri came to rest at the barrier in silence, just watching.

Victor’s skating was fluid, beautiful; not perfect, but Yuuri didn’t see any sign of Victor using or even attempting to use his power, even after more obvious mistakes. Yuuri held his breath as Victor landed a triple axel perfectly, and the satisfied smile on Victor’s face was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen.

_He **can** do this. I knew he could,_ Yuuri thought, a warm certainty settling in him. And oh, how he wanted to see Victor compete like this, no longer bound by the rigid need for perfection, animated by rediscovered joy. 

Victor could keep going. Victor _needed_ to keep going. And he could only do that if he wasn’t coaching Yuuri. The decision locked into place at last. 

Then he quietly turned and walked to the doors, opening them and letting them slam closed as if he’d just come in. “Good morning,” he called out, and Victor came to a stop immediately, looking flushed and happy. “Sorry, there was something I needed to help with at home. Are you ready for me?” 

Victor grinned. “Put your skates on and get out here.” 

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile back. “Be right there,” he said, and resolved to make these last few weeks count. 

………………………… 

Yuuri hadn’t deliberately hidden his decision to retire from Victor. After all, it was Victor himself who’d originally mentioned winning gold at the Grand Prix Final, but nothing beyond that. He hadn’t thought it would be a shock. At all. 

“After the Final, let’s end this.” 

Victor just blinked at him, going very still. 

“Thanks to you, I was able to give everything I had to my last season,” Yuuri continued, bowing before looking up to meet Victor’s gaze. 

“Last… season?” Victor said, and something in his expression cracked. 

The sight was like being punched in the stomach, and panic jolted through Yuuri. He wasn’t sure how, but something had gone terribly, terribly wrong, and the only thing he could think of was to run. To give Victor the ability to erase whatever had just hurt him so; to allow Yuuri himself a second chance. Yuuri pushed himself up off the bed, lunging away from Victor. _Ten seconds. If I’m fast enough-_

Yuuri’s legs tangled up with the bedspread and he went down, hard. The fall rattled through him, and Yuuri choked back a snarl of pure frustration as he felt those last seconds of opportunity slide away from them both. 

There was a long, painful silence before Victor spoke again. “What do you mean, your last season? End _what_ , exactly?” There were tears tracing down Victor’s cheeks, a sharp contrast to the steely anger in his eyes. 

Yuuri kicked free of the bedspread and sat up. “I’m retiring after the Grand Prix Final,” he said, resolute despite the tremble in his voice. 

Victor let out a long breath. The tears didn’t stop. 

“Victor?” Yuuri reached up to brush back Victor’s bangs, then froze as Victor fixed him with a sharp gaze. 

“Retiring. And you didn’t think to tell me?” 

“I… you’re the one who said it was only until the Grand Prix Final,” Yuuri said, taken aback. 

Victor swatted his hand away. “How could you be so selfish?” he hissed. “Deciding something like this so suddenly?” 

That stung. “It’s not selfish - it’s my decision to make,” Yuuri retorted. “I didn’t decide suddenly. I’ve known from the beginning that I wanted this to be my last season.” 

Victor stood up abruptly, his towel falling to the floor. He stalked past Yuuri, hands clenching into fists. “You’ve _known_. I see. Then why did you try to run? Because you wanted me to rewind?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt you - I wasn’t _expecting_ this to hurt you. I thought if I could try again-” 

“But I’d still remember it, no matter what,” Victor snapped, his voice more bitter than Yuuri had ever heard it - he hadn’t realized Victor was even capable of sounding like that. “So now, when it suits _you_ , you want me to rewind until we end up with something I like? I thought we were done with that.” 

“I-I’m sorry,” Yuuri whispered, well aware that it wasn’t enough to mitigate what he’d done. It felt like a betrayal. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.” He swallowed, trying to force down the lump in his throat. “I just… I really, _really_ didn’t think you’d…” 

“I’d what? Care if you retired? What did you think I meant when I said that I wished you’d never retire?” Victor buried his face in his hands for a moment, roughly wiping the tears away. 

“You’re just taking a break,” Yuuri said, carefully; he got to his feet, though he didn’t make any move towards Victor, not yet. “To coach me. If you’re not coaching me, you can go back to competing. I’ve seen you - you’re not rewinding now, even when you could. I watched you, and you were… it was so beautiful. You seemed so happy.” His voice went soft, and Victor let out a long, shaky breath. “I want to see you on the ice like that, Victor. Please.” 

“You can’t make that decision for me,” Victor said at last. 

“I know I can’t. But I can remove an obstacle.” Yuuri forced a smile, blinking to try and keep his own tears from spilling over. 

“An _obstacle?”_ Victor gaped at him, and something in his anger changed. Before Yuuri could react, Victor had taken two long strides to stand right in front of him, close enough that Yuuri could see the tremors running through him. “Don’t you _ever_ call yourself an obstacle again. Damn it, Yuuri-” 

“Victor,” Yuuri began, and then Victor was kissing him, tasting of salt. His lips and tongue were rough against Yuuri’s, but not painful, the kiss chastising and soothing in equal measure. 

“Don’t. _Ever,_ ” Victor repeated, gathering Yuuri up in his arms, and Yuuri squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Victor sighed again. “Yuuri - I’m not going to decide anything right now,” he said quietly. “Can you do the same thing for me in return?” 

Yuuri could feel the tremble in Victor’s frame, and he pressed himself against Victor everywhere he could, overwhelmed by the need to touch, to comfort and be comforted in return. “I-I… okay, Victor. I will, I promise. I’m so sorry…” He took a deep breath. “Victor, I lo-” 

Victor tensed, and before Yuuri could finish the word, Victor’s finger was at Yuuri’s lips, shushing him. “No. Don’t say it now,” Victor whispered. “Not when you’re scared like this. Not when we’re _both_ scared. I don’t want you to love me because you’re afraid I’ll leave.” 

“...it’s true, though,” Yuuri said, and Victor nodded, pushing them both back onto the bed. 

They fell asleep tangled up together, aching, Victor’s bathrobe wrapped over them both. As Yuuri finally succumbed, he realized that through it all, Victor hadn’t tried to rewind even once. 

………………………… 

Everything after the medal ceremony was a blur. 

Yuuri felt as though he were moving through a space that didn’t quite exist, not properly. He hadn’t won gold, but he had taken silver and broken one of Victor’s world records to boot. A world record set by using an ability Yuuri didn’t possess, as Victor kept reminding him, pressing it into his mouth with kisses whenever they were alone. “You’re amazing, Yuuri, incredible,” Victor murmured, steering Yuuri out of the hotel elevator and towards their room, his hands warm on Yuuri’s hips even through the layers of clothing. 

“Yurio did better than I did,” he reminded Victor as Victor opened the hotel room door. Victor just raised one eyebrow at him and prodded him inside, only to press Yuuri up against the wall as soon as the door closed behind them. 

“I’m not in love with Yurio,” Victor informed him, and Yuuri laughed under his breath as Victor unzipped Yuuri’s jacket, revealing the glitter of his free skate costume underneath. “Also, you’re wearing too many clothes.” 

“Then give me a second to take them off properly,” Yuuri retorted, squirming; Victor relented, and Yuuri grinned at him, blushing a bit as he kicked off his shoes and took off his pants. The costume came next, but much more carefully; they’d both been skating competitively too long to be careless with costumes. Victor watched with an almost hungry look as Yuuri peeled off the close-fitting fabric, first the pants, then the top, leaving Yuuri wearing just the sheer leotard. 

“...god, you’re beautiful. I could live in those last ten seconds forever,” Victor managed, after a moment. 

“That would be awful,” Yuuri said, stretching very deliberately and feeling a surge of pride as Victor’s eyes widened. “Then you’d never get to what happens next.” 

“Oh? And what’s that?” Victor murmured, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

“Everything,” Yuuri said, and Victor opened his arms and welcomed him home. 

………………………… 

Victor’s hands smoothed through Yuuri’s hair, patting down a few errant locks that seemed determined to defy the gel. “There we go. That’s better,” Victor murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Yuuri’s neck before taking a step back, scrutinizing the rest of Yuuri’s costume. The blue sparkle was perfect on Yuuri, almost a mirror of Victor’s own Stay Close to Me outfit but with a few changes that made it Yuuri’s own. 

“Everything look okay?” Yuuri asked. 

“Just about, yes.” Victor hesitated for a moment, then nodded to himself. “There’s just one more thing.” 

“Hm?” Yuuri turned, then paused as Victor tugged off his overcoat, and all other thoughts fell out of Yuuri’s mind. Because underneath that coat, Victor was also in costume, a familiar shimmer of pink with the accents altered just enough to perfectly complement Yuuri’s costume. 

“I thought I might join you today, if you’ll have me,” Victor said softly. 

“Victor,” Yuuri breathed. “Are you sure?” 

“If I fall, people will assume it’s because I’ve been lazy in my coaching days,” Victor grinned. “Anyway, I need to get used to it. I don’t intend to be far away from you very often. If we’re both competing…” 

“Do you want me to stay away from the rink any time you’re performing?” Yuuri asked, caught halfway between laughter and bursting into joyful tears. 

“No. I want you right there,” Victor replied, brushing his thumb over Yuuri’s lips. “Right _here_ , in this moment. Always, Yuuri.” 

“Okay,” Yuuri said, his voice cracking on the word, and he laughed at last; Victor smiled right back, so bright, so beautiful. “I’ll be there. I promise.” 

………………………… 

Yuuri let the music carry him, doing his best to express wistful yearning even though every bit of him was filled with anticipation. Five elements away. 

Four. Three. 

Two elements. 

One. 

And the crowd gasped in unison, then cheered, and Yuuri turned and held out one hand to Victor, who took it gently, so gently. Yuuri could feel the tension in Victor where they touched, but also the joy, the exhilaration, and Yuuri let that buoy him as they skated on together. Through steps and spins. Through the lifts, Victor strong and certain beneath him. Through every element, with those little tell-tale twitches manifesting occasionally, but not too often. And it wasn’t perfect, except that it was. 

“Huh. What do you know,” Yuuri breathed as the roar of the crowd washed over them. 

“What?” Victor was grinning at him, breathing hard as he held Yuuri in the final pose. 

“You’re Victor Nikiforov,” Yuuri said, and Victor let out a bark of laughter. 

“And is Victor Nikiforov everything you hoped for?” 

“Everything and more,” Yuuri said, clinging to Victor rather more tightly than was necessary. Despite the tumult of the crowd, it felt like they were in their own little world, safe in the heart of a perfect moment that Yuuri wished would go on forever. 

But it couldn’t, of course. Shouldn’t. 

_What happens next?_

_Everything, everything, everything._

“I love you,” Yuuri whispered, so only Victor could hear, and Victor’s smile was like the sun coming out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to akisazame for letting me play in your AU sandbox, it was absolutely delightful! :D And thank you, dear reader, for reading my little romp through this AU. Your comments and kudos are greatly appreciated - as always, your happiness is my fuel. :) If you want to yell about YoI with me on tumblr, you can find me at [chisotahn.tumblr.com](http://chisotahn.tumblr.com)..


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